


Show Your Hand

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auror Teddy Lupin, Beard Kink, Blow Jobs, Finger Sucking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hand & Finger Kink, Harry Potter Next Generation, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Massage, Masturbation, Pining, Quidditch Player James Sirius Potter, Roommates, Secret Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: At eighteen James has everything he could ever want — a bright future and a promising Quidditch career. He’s also had years of experience hiding his true feelings for Teddy, so moving in with him should be easy. It’s definitely not a problem when Teddy grows a beard, starts spouting innuendo about fucking bread dough, and practicing yoga in nothing but his boxers. It’s not a problem at all.





	Show Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiftylinguini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/gifts).



> So many thanks to my betas aibidil and meshkol and to amorettehd for the extra once over and help with tagging <3

There was very little in James’s life of which he was not absolutely certain.

At seven years old, his parents had bought him his first broom. Not a toy broom but a _real_ official Quidditch-level licensed broom. It was a junior edition, not technically regulated for league games. But it was still a real broom. He’d begged for months and his parents had finally caved. It was one of the best days of his young life. And when his mum wasn’t looking, his Uncle Ron and his dad had helped him disable the charm meant to stop it from flying too high. He’d taken off immediately, soaring high above the fence around the garden, then higher still above the oak tree with the tyre swing Lily loved. Much higher than he was supposed to, but James hadn’t been able to stop himself; he felt free.

His mother had shouted his name. Then his dad and uncle too, but all James could do was keep on flying — _soaring_. It was one of the best moments of his life. At least until he’d lifted his arms to reach towards the sky and slipped off the back of his broom. Even with his dad’s Cushioning Charms, James had broken nine bones and spent the night in St Mungo’s with a concussion.

The next day his mum had asked him how he felt, her warm fingers stroking through his hair as she looked at him with a kind of worry James was too young to understand, and James could only smile as he reached for her hand and whispered, “Mum, I’m going to play for the National team when I grow up. I’ll be good as you, Mum. Maybe better.”

His mum didn’t cry very often, but she did then, pulling him into a tight hug and whispering, “Oh, Jamie.”

He’d patted her awkwardly, telling her she was still pretty good at Quidditch even if she was old now. But then she’d started to laugh while she cried. “No one will ever be able to keep you from your dreams, will they?”

He hadn’t understood then what his mum might be crying about. It was only Quidditch, after all.

When he was eleven, he’d known he would be in Gryffindor, long before he got to Hogwarts.

Lily had hung off his leg begging him not to leave and Albus had kicked the pavement refusing to look at him as they waved goodbye from the platform. His mum and dad had looked like they might cry again. James never did understand why adults cried so much. His dad had looked so serious as he hugged him and told him, “It’s alright, son. No matter where you’re sorted, your mum and I will be so proud of you.”

But James had just shrugged. “I’ll be in Gryffindor,” he’d said confidently, fingering his dad’s old school tie he had hidden in his pocket. He knew everyone already expected him to go to Gryffindor because his parents had been there, because Weasleys were _always_ in Gryffindor and the son of the great Harry Potter would surely be a brave and noble Gryffindor just like his father.

James never corrected anyone when they acted like they knew why he would be a Gryffindor though. James didn’t care what anyone else thought. James knew where he would be sorted, not because of his family, but because James knew exactly who _he_ was.

So when the hat had shouted, “Gryffindor!” before it even touched his head, and the other students had whispered loudly that they hadn’t seen a sorting that fast since Draco Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin, well, James had smiled. The Sorting Hat might know who James Sirius Potter was, but James had known it first.

When James turned fourteen, he’d known with utter certainty that he was gay.

It’d only been a few months of wet dreams featuring images straight from James’s many copies of _Quidditch Weekly_ (and not from the wrinkled copies of Horny Hags that Shane O’Donoghue kept hidden under his bed that he passed around the boy’s dormitory on Saturday nights). But it was enough for James to be certain. He knew it the same way he knew everything else; because it felt like his truth.

Shane had looked at him like he was crazy when he turned down the dirty magazine on Halloween night, asking if James had lost his mind. And in that moment it hadn’t occurred to James to do anything besides speak with the kind of honesty that only he could muster. “Maybe if you branched out there, Shane. Bit of an arse and cock man myself,” he’d said casually, leaning back on his four-poster bed. The other boys had looked at him in shock, as if unsure what to make of him.

“For fuck’s sake, I said I like cock—it doesn’t mean I have two heads. Shut your mouths, boys!” And they had. Because there was no weakness to pray on, nor an ounce of insecurity to find. James’s conviction made the idea of questioning or teasing his revelation seem as incomprehensible as sticking a foot out to trip Headmistress McGonagall.

At sixteen, James had realised like a Bludger to the head that he was in love with Teddy.

Like most things in James’s life, Teddy’s presence was not something he questioned. He didn’t question most things, really. Albus was constantly teasing him about being a simpleton, but the way James saw it, there was no point working yourself up about things in life you couldn’t change. It certainly seemed a lot less exhausting than his brother’s take on life, which seemed to be to overanalyse, overthink, and over-feel _every_ possible situation. Things just were the way they were and James dealt with them one way or the other.

So the fact that James found Teddy painfully attractive — had since the moment he’d realised he was gay — hadn’t ever been an issue. Because James wasn’t blind; of course Teddy was gorgeous. It was just a fact, the same way it was simply a fact that Teddy was funny and kind. He had also happened to be severely off-limits for a number of reasons — he was six years older, he was in a relationship with Vic, he was James’s bloody godbrother, and, mostly, he was straight.

James hadn’t bothered examining why his chest ached when Teddy hugged him at family gatherings, or why his late-night fantasies were just as likely to involve the sound of Teddy’s deep, rumbled laughter as the flat planes of his naked body. Because those were things James could do nothing about, so thinking about them seemed pointless.

At least until James had come home for Christmas in sixth year to find Teddy in the living room drunk on Uncle Charlie’s Romanian mead. His dad had pulled him aside, whispering that Teddy and Victoire had broken up recently and to be tactful. James had bristled at the insinuation he _wasn’t_ , shrugging off his dad’s arm and plopping on the couch beside Teddy.

“Jamie, there you are. Good ol’, Jamie,” Teddy had mumbled, his breath hot against James’s cheek as Teddy pulled him into a fierce hug. “Why isn’t everyone as easy to understand as you?”

James hadn’t known what to say to that, so he’d patted Teddy awkwardly on the back, desperate for the hug to end if only so Teddy didn’t notice the hard-on James was getting from the warmth of Teddy’s body and the musky scent of his cologne.

“Vic was lovely. I loved her, you know. Always will. But she was right—we’re better off friends. I have so many friends, though, Jamie. I don’t want more friends. You know what I mean?”

“Maybe you don’t need anymore of _that_ ,” James had laughed, plucking the flask from Teddy’s hand and gulping down the last of it just so Teddy couldn’t.

Teddy had shot him a dirty look, leaning back to rest his head on James’s shoulder as he’d stretched out his impossibly long legs over the edge of the sofa. Teddy hadn’t asked any more questions; instead he’d just talked, about things he wanted and liked, about the weather and his favourite flavour of ice cream, and even his secret fear that he would die alone. James’s hands had twitched, finding their way into Teddy’s hair of their own accord as he’d whispered, “You’ll never be alone, Teddy.”

Teddy had looked up at James and smiled at him, his elegant mouth curling up into a lazy smile as he’d softly said, “Too bad you’re so young. You’re lovely, Jamie. I think Vic was right.”

James had never got a chance to ask Teddy what he’d meant, because Teddy closed his eyes and hummed contentedly, his body going heavy as he’d fallen asleep against James’s side, the soft edges of his hair tickling James’s ear. And in that moment, as James had watched the slow rise and fall of Teddy’s chest, he had to choke down a sob as he allowed himself to acknowledge for the first time that the things he wanted from Teddy went far beyond the physical.

James had no idea what to do with the knowledge, was not used to concealing the things he wanted. Albus had always bitterly said James got everything he wanted. James had assumed it was simply part of Albus’s perpetual inferiority complex, but in that moment he’d realised that for the first time he wanted something he could not have, and it _hurt_.

The next week had been torture for James, who’d been unable to push away his newfound insight. In desperation, he’d sneaked into Albus’s room on Christmas Eve and asked him quietly if Albus knew what it was like to love someone you shouldn’t. Albus had blinked at him a few times, pushing aside the hair from his face and looking at James in a way that made him fidget. “I’ve been in love with Scorpius since I was eleven,” he’d whispered before scooting aside on his bed, making room for James.

“I didn’t know,” James had whispered, pulling his knees to his chest and settling himself next to his brother.

“S’ok. No one does.” Albus had said it so matter-of-factly, but the pain in James’s chest was mirrored on Albus’s face. Albus had shrugged, and James wondered, not for the first time, how other people felt things and didn’t show them.

“How do you make it stop hurting?” James had whispered.

Albus had knocked his shoulder into James’s softly, offering him a smile. “You don’t. But the alternative...not having them in your life at all — that’s worse.” James couldn’t help but wonder why Albus didn’t ask who exactly he was in love with, wondered if maybe it wasn’t as much of a secret as he’d thought.

That night James had fallen asleep in Albus’s room, appreciating for the first time in a long time the unwavering, quiet loyalty Albus always offered the people he loved.

At eighteen, James had left Hogwarts with impressively high N.E.W.T. scores, been signed as starting Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons, and, with his undiminished and unrequited love for Teddy, he’d known with unwavering clarity that, despite those things, he was _fucked_ , since he was moving in with him tomorrow.

***~*~*~***

“Why the bloody hell do you have so much shit?” Albus asked, peering into James’s trunk and then slamming it shut with a grimace.

“Hey, that’s not shit. That is worthwhile mementos from my prime years at Hogwarts.”

Albus snorted. “Prime years? You’re only eighteen.”

“Yeah, well, they were good years,” James laughed. “But I can’t take all of this stuff. Teddy’s spare room is even smaller than this one. And if I take all this with all my Quidditch gear, there won’t even be space in my room to walk.”

“ _Jamie_ ,” Albus began but James shook his head, chucking his favourite jumper at Albus’s head.

“It’s fine,” James lied. He’d got better at that recently.

Albus peeled the jumper off his head, sniffing it and making a disgusted face before throwing it on James’s bed. “I just think maybe moving in with Teddy when you’re still in lov—”

“La la la, I can’t hear you,” James sang, covering his ears and climbing on the bed, trying to get around Albus.

“Coward!” Albus shouted, grabbing James’s ankles and tackling him to the bed. James made an outraged sound of protest, wrapping his legs around Albus’s chest and wrestling him to the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch, tosser!”

“Prick.”

“Fuck bucket.”

“Dickhead!” James shot back.

Albus huffed, reaching back for the pillow on the edge of the bed and trying to hit James in the face. “Wetty!”

“Not hardly, you bellend.” James groaned when Albus all but stabbed him with his wand once he realised the pillow wasn’t making much of an impact. “That’s not what your wand is for, you utter wanker.”

Albus panted, still underneath James but looking victorious. “You’re really asking for trouble moving in with him.” Then he paused, a look of concern passing across his face. “I know you’re excited to move out, but just because Teddy offered you his spare room doesn’t mean you _need_ to take it. Especially not if you’re not going to tell him how you feel. You can afford to live alone, you know.”

James sighed, releasing his grip on Albus and rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Albus scrambled away from him, stretching his legs out and nudging him gently.

“I’ll tell Teddy I'm in love with him when you tell Scorpius you want to have his babies.”

Albus made a high-pitched noise. “Fucking twat. I don’t want to have his babies.”

James peered over at Albus, who was blushing, his arms crossed over his chest. James knew when enough teasing was enough. “Right, well, I’ll be fine. Teddy’s been gone for six months on that stupid secret mission he’s not been allowed to talk about. Maybe when he gets home tomorrow he’ll have had a personality transplant and I’ll magically think of him in a completely normal, platonic way.”

When James turned his head, Albus had his mouth open, but he snapped it shut as if thinking better of it. “You know, Teddy might—” but James couldn’t take it, grabbing the last pillow off his bed and chucking it at Albus again. It was only seconds before they were at it again, falling to the floor in a heap as Albus pulled James’s arm behind his back.

They spent another half an hour trying to knock each other over before they finally called a truce. After they emptied James’s old school trunk (which unearthed seven broken quills, a well-worn copy of _Quidditch Weekly,_ and Teddy’s favourite Head Boy shirt that had mysteriously gone missing when he left Hogwarts), Albus helped James shove as much clothing as could fit in it.

James knew tomorrow everything in his life might burst into flames, but at least in this moment things were the same.

***~*~*~***

When James arrived at Teddy’s flat — or his and Teddy’s flat now, he supposed — it was with a general feeling of anticipation. It’d been months since he’d last seen Teddy, and because of school, even longer since he’d got to spend any extended time with him. They exchanged a lot of owls, of course, had for years, but it wasn't the same.

It was absolutely possible that Teddy would walk through the doorway and James would be able to laugh to himself and think, _good ol’ Teddy, what was I thinking, of course I love you in a totally platonic way._

Unfortunately, the moment James laid eyes on Teddy, his delusion was completely squashed.

Teddy was in his kitchen wearing a well-fitted pair of soft-looking grey joggers and a thin white shirt. It wasn't even that the clothing showed off his body, it was more like his body was there with a bit of clothing covering it, practically _moulded_ to it. James was tempted to turn around and Floo back home and hide in his old bedroom, because there was absolutely no way he was going to survive living with Teddy if that was how he dressed at home.

“You're finally here,” Teddy said with a fond smile, closing the distance between them and pulling James into a close embrace.

James allowed himself to close his eyes, taking the opportunity to let his hands roam up Teddy's back, trying not to make noises at the flex of muscles he felt across Teddy's shoulders as Teddy squeezed him tightly, Teddy’s strong hands resting on his lower back.

James had got taller since the last time he saw Teddy. He was just a few inches shorter than him now and he wondered if Teddy noticed the change as the light stubble on Teddy’s jawline rubbed against James’s cheek. James liked the new way he fit in Teddy’s arms.

It took a few seconds before James realised Teddy had relaxed his hold and James pulled back with a grin, unable to restrain himself as he reached out to touch Teddy’s face.

“Couldn’t decide if you wanted to shave?” James teased, biting his bottom lip as his thumb skimmed over the coarse hair underneath Teddy’s lips, wondering what it would feel like to have that roughness sliding against his skin in other places.

Teddy laughed, loud and full, as he playfully swatted James’s hand away. He shot James a curious look before his face twitched in a familiar way and then, before James’s eyes, the stubble began to grow, morphing into a full beard.

“Better?” Teddy asked with a wink, reaching up and stroking the light brown hair on his face with his fingers. It was such a stark contrast to the nearly electric blue of his hair, attractive in a way only Teddy seemed to make possible. James felt decidedly off-centre and suddenly wished Teddy would make the beard disappear, because fuck it all but James liked the way it looked. Really liked it. He liked the way Teddy’s thin, soft lips looked nestled in it, liked the way Teddy’s fingers seemed to float through it. He definitely needed Teddy to stop touching it. Immediately. Or James was quite certain he might do something there was no coming back from. Unfortunately for James, Teddy didn’t stop; instead he repeatedly moved his long, elegant fingers through the thick facial hair as his eyes never left James’s.

James tried to stop it, really he did, tried to stop the little sound he made at that. James had known he fancied Teddy for ages, but after not seeing him for months, instead of a dwindling affection, it was like a dam had exploded and the intensity of his desire for Teddy felt intoxicating and nearly crushing in its ferocity.

“Alright there, James?” Teddy asked again, dropping his hand and looking somehow both concerned and affectionate.

“Fine. Yeah, course. I just have to unpack...my stuff. Lots of stuff to unpack. Got an early practice tomorrow, I’ve got to make sure my kit and broom are ready.” James shoved his hands in his pockets, just to stop himself from reaching out.

Teddy’s face split into an innocent grin. “Need any help polishing your broom?”

James just blinked, wondering if he’d stepped into an alternate universe. Usually he was the one spewing innuendo at Teddy, well, at everyone really but Teddy in particular, at least when the opportunity presented itself. But Teddy had never acknowledged it except to smile at James and ruffle his hair as if James were some little kid.

For the first time in his life, James had no idea what to do with himself. He was quite certain he was imagining things, because Teddy was definitely not leaning against the counter in clothing snug enough to be painted on his body, eyeing James with interest. Because Teddy did not know James fancied him and Teddy wasn’t gay, and mostly because James was the one who rattled other people, not the other way around.

Then Teddy raised an eyebrow, looking amused, and James did the only thing that made sense in that moment. He lied.

“Bollocks, I just realised I forgot my broom! I better pop back over to mum and dad’s. I’ll see you later!” And then, despite feeling like a complete arse, James gripped his wand and Disapparated without giving Teddy an opportunity to say anything.

***~*~*~***

The next day James both figuratively and literally threw himself into the team’s practice. Not that he hadn’t always been dedicated to his training, or his sport in general, but there was a type of single-minded determination in him as he flew well past the coach’s last whistle that he’d never possessed before.

By the time he’d left practice his body ached, the bruise on his shoulder from the Bludger he failed to miss was blossoming rapidly — he didn’t bother sharing _that_ detail with the team Healer — and all he wanted was a hot shower at home and long, slow wank.

But then he stepped through the Floo, unprepared for the sight of Teddy in a pair of loose-fitting jeans hanging low on his hips and nothing else. James stood there several long seconds, gripping his broom far tighter than was necessary as his eyes trailed over Teddy. He looked to be cooking, but what it was James had no idea, nor did he care, because all he could do was stare at all of Teddy’s pale skin on display, a long scar on his chest from a wonky spell last June that couldn’t be healed, the dusting of light brown hair across his broad chest and the small crescent moon tattoo just above his jutting hip bone.

Logically he’d known Teddy would be there when he got home. Of course he would. He lived there. It’s just that James wasn’t entirely prepared for the reality of what it meant to be coming home to Teddy every day. James was absolutely not going to admit to Albus that he was right and that he hadn’t thought this whole moving-in-with-Teddy thing through. But the truth was, he clearly fucking hadn’t. He’d thought he could just push aside his feelings the way he’d been doing for years. Except that was impossible when Teddy was everywhere and there was no escape from him.

Worse still was the fact that James didn’t want to escape.

“Hungry? I’m making—” but James didn’t let him finish, urgently needing to get right into the shower and away from Teddy’s bare chest and pert nipples.

“ _Starving_. I’m gonna shower first,” James mumbled awkwardly, ducking his head and disappearing down the hall.

James spent longer than usual in the shower, wrapping his hand around his cock and letting out every noise he’d been forced to contain the day before as images of Teddy danced before his eyes. He was pleased he’d had the forethought to cast a Silencing Charm first.

James had always appreciated a good wank, but even he was surprised by the way his own body responded, his fingers wrapping around his length and stroking as he closed his eyes and pictured Teddy’s long fingers sliding through his beard before reaching for James’s cock instead. He was unable to stop the coiling pleasure in his belly as his mouth fell open; he sped up his strokes and imagined it was Teddy’s capable hand.

“Feeling better?” Teddy asked with a grin when James meandered into the kitchen twenty minutes later, grateful he’d allowed himself a leisurely wank because Teddy was still only half dressed and now he had his fingers digging into a pile of dough. James knew what he was making now; he’d seen his Gran make bread like this a million times. He’d never given bread-making a second thought, had never once considered Teddy might know how to make it.

And yet Teddy was standing there with the muscles in his shoulders and forearms flexing as his fingers manipulated the dough. James plopped down at the table to watch with a huff, reaching for an apple from the fruit bowl, desperate for something to do with his hands or mouth.

“Loads better,” he answered with a returning smile, taking a bite out of the apple just so he didn’t have to say more. Teddy looked relaxed, something peaceful on his face as he turned back to the dough. James was glad Teddy was mostly facing away from him so he could look without being caught, wondering why it was that he’d never noticed how fucking long Teddy’s fingers were.

It’d been bad enough yesterday, watching Teddy stroke his beard and imaging what those dexterous fingers would feel like stroking something else. But now, watching Teddy push and pull, manipulating the bread dough, had James wriggling in his chair. He was not sure he would ever be able to rid his brain of the image of Teddy’s fingers disappearing into the flesh of the dough. James didn’t even particularly like apples but he took an obscenely large bite of it anyway as he imagined Teddy’s glorious fingers disappearing into an entirely different kind of flesh.

“Want to help?” Teddy asked suddenly and James shrugged.

“I don't know how.”

“Molly never taught you?” Teddy said with a look of surprise.

James shook his head and to his horror — or elation, he wasn't entirely sure — Teddy grabbed the dough and plopped it on the table in front of James.

“Here, let me show you. Cooking is a good skill to have.”

“Well, so long as I’m with you then you can do the cooking,” James shot back.

“Lazy fucker,” Teddy chastised with a laugh, and he somehow sounded impossibly fond. And then, before James could process what was happening, Teddy leant over him from behind, his warm chest pressed against James’s back and his long arms bracketing James’s. “The key is to be confident in your movements. You don’t want to do anything with the dough before it’s ready, you’ve really gotta get your hands into it and _work_ it.”

James wondered if he had lost his mind. Teddy was talking about fucking bread and James had a raging hard-on under the table. Work it. The bread. Work the bread, he told himself, forcing his fingers towards the dough and poking it.

“Not like that—use your hands like you mean it,” Teddy corrected kindly, his breath hot and heavy against James’s ear as he covered James’s hands with his own and pushed them into the dough. It was an interesting texture, pliant beneath his hands. James tried very hard not to make a complete pillock of himself, reminding himself that it would not do to moan about massaging dough.

But really James didn’t know how he was supposed to not moan when Teddy’s hands were covering his own and his fingers were so much longer than his, longer than James even realised. And as their hands moved together, folding and kneading and squeezing, James could do nothing but hold his breath and try not to imagine Teddy’s fingers sliding inside of _him,_ how much deeper they would go than his own fingers.

That night James dreamt of bread dough and beards, his body flushed and his pyjamas sticky, and he slammed his face into his pillow and screamed. _Fucked_. He was completely fucked.

***~*~*~***

If James had thought the dough incident—as he’d begun to refer to it in his mind—was bad, that had nothing on the day James came home a week later to find Teddy in the middle of the living room, the furniture pushed aside, and Teddy in nothing but a scandalously tight pair of purple boxers that clung to the curve of his arse and the muscled expanse of his slim but capable looking thighs.

“What the fuck are you doing?” James groaned, feeling like an idiot asking that question. He knew what Teddy was doing. He’d seen him doing yoga plenty of times. But never with almost no clothing on and never like _this_. Teddy was balanced on his hands, his long fingers splayed out and all the muscles in his forearms popping out, his head pointing down and the rest of his body extended into the air with his right leg somehow bent under him and his right foot touching his left arm. James didn’t know it was even possible for the human body to contort like that.

“Flying pigeon pose,” Teddy answered calmly, his body not even quivering as he shifted himself to the side, his face turning towards James. The beard was gone today, but with that distraction gone, James was now doubly aware of the sharp line of Teddy’s jaw as it hovered above the ground. Teddy’s thighs and arse were on perfect display and James had no idea what to do with himself, so he just stood there feeling like a right wanker, wondering if it was possible to snap his broom in half from how hard he was clutching at it.

Far too soon for James’s liking, Teddy moved out of the pose, rising to his feet and shaking out his limbs before transitioning into a pose James was more familiar with — the tree pose — smiling at James and closing his eyes. Except his new pose did nothing but give James a perfect full frontal view of Teddy’s cock in those tight boxers — it was, like his fingers, fucking long.

This time James practically ran to the shower, wondering not for the first time that week if his prick might fall off from wanking so much.

***~*~*~***

Mostly James was doing fine hiding his feelings from Teddy, or at least he _thought_ he was, until he came home from practice on a Friday evening after being hit by the Bludger no less than four times, so sore he could barely move.

Teddy took one look at him, winced in sympathy, and offered him a massage. James knew it was a horrible idea, would test every ounce of his self control (of which he admittedly possessed very little), but in that moment it also sounded like the best offer he’d ever heard, which was how he found himself in nothing but his comfortable joggers, face down on his bed with Teddy straddling his hips. He was only glad Teddy couldn’t feel his cock, which was rock hard the second Teddy’s body moved atop his own.

James told himself he would be quiet, but Teddy’s fingers proved to be made of fucking magic and he couldn’t stop from making noises. His stomach swirled with desire and his mouth fell open in a groan as Teddy’s hands dug deep into the sore muscles, lathering his back with some muscle relaxing potion James had trouble remembering the name of because Teddy’s cock was nestled against his lower back while he talked. Teddy worked out every bit of tension and pain from his body until James felt like he was floating, more relaxed and turned on than he’d ever been.

“I’m gay,” James blurted out suddenly, as Teddy’s fingers dug underneath the sharp angle of his shoulder blade. The second the words were out of his mouth, James wanted to die of mortification, not sure why he’d chosen that moment to say the words out loud.

He was not sure what he expected Teddy to say. Maybe to laugh or tease him, because on James’s eighteenth birthday he’d been caught with his hands down another bloke’s pants outside the only gay wizarding club in Britain by the _Daily Prophet_ , and James was pretty sure everyone saw those pictures. So Teddy had to know already.

It was just that James had realised recently that Teddy knowing, and James telling him, were two completely different things. He couldn't put his finger on why it mattered to him, it just did. Except he certainly hadn’t meant to blurt it out of nowhere while he was half dressed and close to coming without his cock even being touched.

“I know, Jamie,” Teddy said, voice soft and full of something James couldn’t identify. And then before James could say anything back Teddy was speaking again, voice a little louder this time, more confident. “I guess if we’re making confessions, I suppose now would be the time to tell you I’m bisexual.”

“Brilliant, Ted,” James answered honestly, impossibly glad Teddy couldn’t see _his_ face. James had spent so long reminding himself of the reasons he couldn’t have Teddy, and as those reasons started to crumble, James wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“Yeah, Jamie. Brilliant.”

***~*~*~***

As the days turned into weeks, James was positive he’d lost his everloving mind. Every single thing Teddy did seemed to be charged with innuendo and a sexual tension that left James training and playing harder and better than ever before in hopes he might fall into bed too exhausted to dream. He didn’t want to wake up covered in sweat and come with the fleeting memory of Teddy upon his body, almost too real to forget, but never real enough.

And more perplexing still was the fact that James could not stop fucking thinking about Teddy’s fingers. Not that he didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about Teddy in general, or appreciating his broad chest and long arms and infectious smile. But try as he might, James could not stop watching every single thing Teddy did with a new appreciation for his hands.

At night when James tried to watch the telly, he couldn’t focus on the show, instead finding himself mesmerised by the way Teddy’s fingers wrapped around the quill in his hand, scratching across the parchment. Or at dinner, the careless way Teddy waved his silverware around before taking a bite, talking animatedly about his day and making James laugh until his stomach ached. Even the small things like Teddy’s fingers tapping on the arm of the sofa had James reaching for a spare couch pillow and biting his lip, finding the flex of his fingers and the jut of his pronounced knuckles as alluring as if Teddy were completely naked.

Worse still was the fact that the more time James spent with Teddy, the more positive he became that despite the fact that he wanted to wreck Teddy in every way possible — or be wrecked by him, he wasn’t picky — it was more than sex. So much more.

James could do this. He knew he was playing with fire, but he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never been scared of getting burnt.

***~*~*~***

“What do you want to drink?” Teddy yelled, his voice barely audible above the throbbing music of the club. James had already forgotten the name, some place in Dalston, a hipster club by the looks of the people in it. Teddy had invited him out, told him to dress nice, and James had thought maybe they’d end up at that chippy downtown Teddy loved or maybe even the Muggle cinema.

“Vodka and lemonade!” James shouted back, rubbing his face in disbelief as Teddy winked at him on his way to the bar.

James definitely hadn’t counted on ending up at gay Muggle club with Teddy tonight. Teddy who, twenty minutes later, was walking back from the bar in a pair of well-fitted jeans and a black shirt. His hair was a bit different than usual, light brown with shocking violet streaks, short along the sides and back but long enough in the front to fall into his eyes. It was a good look on him, and the fucking beard was back. But worst of all were the rings on his fingers. The fucking _rings_. James had never seen Teddy with jewellery on before, hadn’t even known he owned any. They made Teddy’s fingers look more different somehow, bolder, and James found himself unable to stop thinking about wrapping his lips around the long digits.

“Thanks,” James mumbled, his eyes riveted on the way the rings made Teddy’s fingers look longer, more elegant, more _everything_. “What are you drinking?”

Teddy looked down at the small shot in his hand and grinned. “Sambuca shot.”

James was tempted to ask for a taste, but then Teddy was lifting the shot glass to his lips and downing it in one gulp, his pale pink tongue darting out to lick the residue of the liquid off his bottom lip.

James could do nothing but lift his own drink to his lips, meaning only to take one sip but somehow chugging the entire thing in a few gulps.

“Whoa, easy there, Jamie. Don’t wanna get too drunk... _yet_.”

And then Teddy lifted his hands to his beard, the gold and silver rings on his fingers glittering under the flourescent lights of the club as he stroked his beard and watched James as if waiting for something. As the night went on, the music got louder and the drinks got stronger. By the time James moved on to straight shots of vodka, Teddy had switched to tequila shots, which was bad enough until Teddy leaned over the bar asking for salt and lemon and James groaned, knowing what was coming next.

Teddy kept his eyes on James’s the entire time as he lifted his hand to his mouth, darted his tongue out to lick the back of his hand near his forefinger, then reached for the salt, pouring it on the moistened skin. James shifted, his trousers feeling far too tight and the club far too hot as Teddy licked the salt off, downed the tequila in one go with a guttural groan, and then sucked hard on the lemon slice.

James looked down at his own drink then back at Teddy. “Want one?” Teddy asked, and James just nodded. Teddy motioned to the bartender, who set down another shot of tequila, as Teddy slid the salt and lemons towards James.

And something in James _snapped_.

And in that moment James didn’t care about the reasons this might be a bad idea, or the possibility that Teddy wouldn’t want him back, because he just needed to act. So instead of lifting his own hand he found himself grabbing Teddy’s hand and pulling it close, opening his mouth and licking a broad stripe across the top. It was a bit salty still and James moaned in appreciation at the taste, blindly reaching for the salt and pouring it on Teddy’s hand, which he thankfully hadn’t attempted to pull back.

And then, instead of licking the salt off, James thought fuck it he’d gone this far, and moved his mouth Teddy’s index finger sliding the entire thing into his mouth and began sucking _hard_.

“Fucking hell, James.” Teddy groaned, licking his lips as James continued to suck on his index finger. After a minute or so James pulled back, not breaking eye contact with Teddy as he finally licked off the salt, swallowing his shot down in one gulp before sucking on the lemon, not even wincing as the sour liquid assaulted his taste buds.

James coughed once, wiping his lips on the back of his hand and opening his mouth to apologise for overstepping, but then Teddy shoved him back against the bar and covered James’s mouth with his own. Teddy’s hands were nearly shaking as they grabbed onto James’s shoulders, a hint of hesitancy in his otherwise confidant stance, and it was enough to show James that Teddy wanted this just as much as he did, wanted this enough to be nervous about it.

“Teddy,” James all but whined, giving in to what he’d wanted for so long and arching up against him, their lips sliding against one another as his hands found their way into Teddy’s hair. And fuck if it wasn’t as soft as James had imagined it would be—it felt so good sliding between his fingers that it took him a moment to even realise Teddy had stopped kissing him and was asking him something.

“Huh?”

Teddy laughed, looking at James with a kind of passionate affection, his hand moving to James’s face as he cupped his cheek. His hands were impossibly warm, the rings somehow cold as ice, and James closed his eyes and shuddered. “I said let me take you home.”

“Like home to a cold shower and separate beds, or like _home_?” James questioned breathlessly, his eyes fluttering open.

This time the look on Teddy’s face was anything but innocent. “Like let me take you home to my bed and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“Fuck, _Teddy_.”

Teddy grinned, leaning down for one more quick kiss before whispering, “Yeah, just like that.”

***~*~*~***

James wasn’t even entirely sure how they made it back to their flat; he was definitely a bit more drunk than Teddy, who at least had his wits about him enough to make sure they were out of sight—unlike James, who’d tried to pull out his wand in the middle of the club, wanting to Apparate them home immediately to get started on the fucking and the screaming bit.

Despite that slight blemish on his judgement, though, James was still rather proud of himself for not mauling Teddy then and there. Somehow they did manage to get out of the club and to a discreet enough location for Teddy to Apparate them back home, at which point James nearly knocked Teddy over the second his feet connected with the floor. He slammed Teddy back into the wall and sucked on the base of his neck, grabbing Teddy’s hands and moving them to his arse.

“Fuck, you’re eager,” Teddy huffed out, his head thunking against the wall as he tilted his head back to expose more of his neck for James.

James didn’t answer, sucking even harder and starting to rut against Teddy, not even able to think about taking their clothes off because that would require them to stop touching and the idea of doing that was utterly inconceivable.

“I thought you’d never make a move,” Teddy gasped out when James sucked his ear into his mouth, and those words were enough to make James stop, pulling back and shooting Teddy a confused look. Even in his fairly pissed state, those words registered as something important.

“You _knew_ how I felt about you?” James choked out, shuddering out a slow breath when Teddy’s fingers began to undo the buttons on his jeans.

“Not at first. I suspected, but you’re so young and, fuck, James, you flirt with anyone that walks. I didn’t think you meant it. But then that day you moved in, you looked at me the way I look at you; like you wanted to devour me.”

James tried to process this, process the fact that Teddy had been doing everything on purpose and that James hadn’t been losing his mind because Teddy really had been giving him signals, but his head was spinning and all he wanted was the man in front of him. “Not too young to do this,” James said more confidently than he felt and dropped to his knees. He rubbed his face into the front of Teddy’s trousers, feeling the length of his cock underneath the rough material.

“Jamie,” Teddy sighed as James fumbled with the zipper, tugging it down quickly and then roughly pulling the trousers down along with Teddy’s boxers. He didn’t give Teddy time to say anything before his mouth was on Teddy’s cock, enveloping it with his warm mouth and sucking. He was not too drunk to know that this was everything he wanted, but drunk enough that his inhibitions and his lack of experience seemed meaningless in the face of this opportunity.

James wondered if he was just a natural at sucking cock or if maybe Teddy was more drunk than he thought and couldn’t tell that James had never done this before, but Teddy didn’t seem to be complaining. Rather, he looked blissed out, his mouth open as he tugged softly on James’s hair. His hands moved out of his hair and onto James’s face, thumb stroking across James’s cheek. James didn’t know what this compulsion was, but before he’d even thought twice, he let Teddy’s cock slide out of his mouth and he turned his head to nip at Teddy’s wrist, wrapping his lips around the faint y-shaped blue vein and sucking.

“Fuck,” Teddy hissed.

James pulled his mouth off after a minute, pleased at the small red love bite blossoming there, before blinking up at Teddy and trying to catch his breath.

“Come here,” Teddy whispered, tugging him up and wrapping his arms around him as he kissed him. There was no more hesitancy in his movements, just a type of boldness James wasn’t used to seeing in Teddy. Teddy had always been self assured, always powerful and smart and capable and funny, but he’d also been a bit less brash about it all than James. James wasn’t entirely sure what he expected Teddy to be like during sex, but he felt equal parts surprised and aroused at the assertiveness and power Teddy radiated.

“Fuck, you have nice hands. You have no idea how much I want them inside me,” James found himself mumbling, plucking the rings off Teddy’s fingers and dropping them to the floor.

Teddy laughed again, his chest rumbling against James’s. “That right?”

“Mmm, want all kinds of things. Fuck,” James huffed when Teddy began to kiss his way across the juncture between his neck and shoulder, his beard tickling the sensitive skin, and James had no idea where to put his hands so he clenched them uselessly at his sides as Teddy’s capable hands divested him of his clothing.

Once James was finally naked, Teddy pulled back, yanking his own shirt off before tugging James towards the bed.

“What do you want?” Teddy asked, the rise and fall of his chest uneven. He looked like he was working hard at controlling himself and James didn’t want him to; he wanted Teddy to lose control. 

So he climbed onto the bed, crawling onto his hands and knees and resting his forehead on his folded arms. “Make me yours.”

It was only a few seconds before Teddy was jumping onto the bed, his hands absolutely everywhere, stroking up and down James’s back and along his sides before finally settling on his arse cheeks and pulling them apart. James’s face heated and he bit down hard on his forearm to stop from begging. He felt completely exposed, and a little overwhelmed at the sheer intensity of how much he liked the feeling.

“Have you ever—” Teddy started, his thumb stroking over the puckered skin.

James shook his head, glad Teddy couldn’t see the blush on his face. “No. Sorry, I—”

“Don’t you fucking apologise for anything,” Teddy growled with a severity that took James’s breath away. “You’re perfect,” he added, voice shaky. Then Teddy’s hands were gone and James couldn’t stop the whimper of disappointment, at least until he heard Teddy rummaging around in the bedside table. He was dimly aware of Teddy murmuring a spell before his arse tingled in an unfamiliar way. Teddy’s hands returned, but this time the finger that swirled around his arsehole was slick and cold, and James tensed instinctively.

“Shh, relax,” Teddy whispered, kissing the bottom of his spine as the first finger slid in. James’s mouth fell open in a whine, his chest heaving. It felt so different than the few times he’d tried to do it himself. Teddy’s fingers were strong and soft and so much longer than James’s that even just one finger went deeper than he’d ever managed to get. Then Teddy was humming against his back, pressing sloppy kisses to the base of his spine as he slid a second lubed finger in, and James exhaled slowly at the initial sting, his body tensing up.

Teddy seemed to notice, replacing his mouth with his other hand and rubbing soothing circles along James’s lower back. It didn’t take long before the pain had lessened, replaced by a sort of euphoric feeling at the knowledge that Teddy’s fingers were inside him. James arched his back, silently requesting more. Teddy took a moment to add more lube to his fingers before willingly supplying another. This time James couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped through clenched teeth, the almost burning stretch even more noticeable this time. But he could handle it, because the buzz of the alcohol and the adrenaline coursing through his brain made everything else secondary to his arousal.

“Breathe, Jamie, just breathe,” Teddy murmured, his free hand still making soothing circles on his lower back.

James just nodded, steeling his shoulders and willing himself to relax, to stop thinking, to just feel as Teddy’s fingers slid in and out. Teddy seemed to sense the shift in James’s body language because, as James relaxed, Teddy’s fingers changed pace, twisting and scissoring, stretching him open wider and wider until, before James even realised what was happening, Teddy’s pinky slid inside and this time James couldn’t stop the words that fell from his lips as he begged for Teddy’s cock. James couldn’t believe that many of Teddy’s fingers actually fit, was in awe of the way it stretched and burned; the way he wanted it.

“Fuck, not gonna last. Not gonna last,” James began to chant, his cock so hard it ached, dangling between his legs and dripping a bit of precome onto the sheet beaneath him.

“S’ok, just let me make you feel good,” Teddy replied, his hands on James’s hips, holding him in place as he slid his cock inside of James so slow that James nearly screamed. “Fuck, you feel good.” James wasn’t even sure when Teddy had covered his cock in lube but it slid in easily. It felt slick and full and fucking amazing.

Teddy barely moved at first, his fingers digging into James’s hips as he moved his hips in small circles. James knew there was no way he was going to last. He was so full and Teddy was so deep, deep inside of him, and James felt like his nerve endings were short circuiting and he needed to do something with his hands and his mouth and his body. Everything was too much and not enough and be began to claw at the sheets, desperately whining, not even sure what he needed.

Just when James was about to beg again, Teddy began to move, but to James’s horror he pulled all the way out and James slipped on his elbows, face planting in the bed in surprise before rolling onto his back, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Hey, relax. I just...I needed to see your face,” Teddy whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before gently pushing James back into the pillows, his hands on James’s knees as he pushed them back to James’s chest before lining up his cock and sliding in quickly this time.

“Fuck!” James screamed, giving up all hope of staying quiet now that he could see the intrepid look on Teddy’s face as he fucked him.

“Merlin, Jamie. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” Teddy confessed, his hands on James’s hips again as he set up a steady pace, sliding in and out rapidly. And it felt so good James wanted to scream, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out but his breath in desperate little pants, his own fingers turning white as he gripped his calves hard enough to bruise.

He knew he was going to come embarrassingly fast, was trying futilely to hold it off, but then Teddy was leaning over him, balancing himself on one hand as he leaned close and offered his thumb to James, who just blinked for a few seconds before sucking it into his mouth _hard_. Teddy looked just as close to losing control, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat and the very tips of his hair turning bright blue as he slid his thumb in and out of James’s willing mouth. And it hit James that Teddy was basically fucking his mouth with his fingers while he fucked his arse, and it was just too much for James’s brain to handle and he came with a moan, his back arching and his come covering their bellies as he huffed around Teddy’s thumb, never letting it fall out of his mouth.

James was too spent to be embarrassed about his lack of stamina, so instead he wrapped his legs around Teddy’s waist, making sure Teddy was watching him as he pulled Teddy’s hand from his mouth and moved it down to his stomach, rubbing it in the mess across his stomach before bringing it back up to his mouth and sucking it off.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ , James,” Teddy groaned, his hips snapping forward erratically, and it was only a few more seconds before Teddy was screwing his face up and shuddering, his release filling James’s body. It felt weird and perfect all at once.

Once he was done, Teddy pulled out of James’s body, collapsing next to him on the bed with a groan.

“You ok?” Teddy whispered as he dragged his fingertips along the curve of James’s spine. 

James groaned an unintelligible sound before scooting as close to Teddy as he could without having to actually move too much. Teddy seemed to get the idea though, sliding his arm underneath James and tugging him onto his chest.

James rested his chin near Teddy’s shoulder and blinked a few times, almost overwhelmed at the idea of looking Teddy in the eyes after doing _that_. Teddy was smiling though, that same soft smile he always saved for James. 

James felt wrecked in every way possible, his body sore and spent, but his heart light. Fuck he loved Teddy.

“You look like the kneazle that ate the pixie,” Teddy laughed, lifting his head to peer over at James.

James laughed, not at all bothered by the sweat or stickiness, and he wrapped himself around Teddy. “Mmm, more like the lion that ate the badger.”

“Fucking menace.”

“You love it.” James laughed, nuzzling into Teddy’s neck.

“Cuddly fucking menace,” Teddy corrected, but he pulled James closer all the same. “And yeah, yeah I love you.”

James felt his chest tighten as he sucked in a breath. “I love you, too,” he whispered, and of this, James was absolutely certain.


End file.
